


Space Snippets

by Illusn



Category: Warframe
Genre: Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25313503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusn/pseuds/Illusn
Summary: A series of drabbles surrounding the characters of Warframe.
Kudos: 21





	1. Dog Days

**Author's Note:**

> The stories featured in this collection contain plot and lore spoilers for Warframe. If you have not yet finished the Sacrifice, I would recommend you do so before reading this.

The summer sun beat down on the battlefield, where Grineer and Tenno were locked in combat yet again. Water splashed up from beneath the feet of the Tenno as they leapt around their opponents, each motion of their warframes lithe and powerful.  
Kela De Thaym watched on, gripped with anticipation as one of her own gunned down a Tenno. Sure, it was just a water fight, but it was a fight nonetheless, and any fight was good by her.  
Her pride was short-lived however, as the Tenno took down two of her executioners back to back. Shit!  
"It's all fun and games until we start losing! Pick up your act, Executioners!” she screamed through the comms. Wait, did she just say ‘fun and games’? That would be incorrect. Fun and games would imply that she’s enjoying this water fight. Which she isn’t. Not at all. Definitely not.  
Laughter rang out softly across the battlefield. It sounded far too clear and young to be one of the Grineer, with their deformed and decaying bodies, which left the tenno. Were they mocking her? Kela fumed as the sounds of joy continued.  
Those damn Tenno. How dare they!? First that gas leak (which definitely wasn’t an excuse to have a water fight) and now this.  
She was about to yell into the arena, but stopped. The Tenno’s laughter sounded so innocent, so unlike the inhuman monsters that they were. That said, sure, they had the power to slaughter entire armies on their own, but Kela couldn’t really hold that against them with the knowledge that the Tenno were mere vulnerable children behind their warframes. 

Perhaps, even the Tenno deserved a break from the constant violence and death that surrounded their role as warriors, just for a short while. It couldn’t hurt to have some fun every once in a while.  
A rare smile spread across the face of the Kela De Thaym as she watched the show. Maybe she should try joining in for once?


	2. Dax's Shawzin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The operator and Umbra bond over playing the shawzin.

The operator’s face screwed up in concentration as they plucked at the strings of the shawzin. It was infuriating. No matter how much they tried, they could never get it to sound like in their memories. No, Umbra’s memories. They shook their head - they kept having to remind themself that those aren’t their memories.  
Still, the song was important to them, even if it was a transplanted memory.  
Frustrated, they placed the shawzin in the small alcove in the personal quarters’ wall. Perhaps a mission would quell their annoyance with themself.  
However, as the door to the rest of the orbiter opened, the Tenno was surprised to see the imposing Umbra warframe standing there. They jumped, fear at the new person briefly overtaking their senses before their brain processed who was there. Excalibur Umbra gave them a quizzical look, something that was impressive given that he didn’t have a visible face.   
“You just spooked me is all,” assured the operator. They tried to be assuring at least, but right now they felt like a small child being doted on by a parent, as Umbra gave them a gentle pat on the shoulder.  
Umbra looked past them to the shawzin, and the operator didn’t have to be able to see his face to see the bitter-sweet recognition that must have crossed it.  
“I’ve been trying to learn ‘Smiles from Juran’,” the operator explained, patting Umbra on the back in way of comfort, although they weren’t actually sure how much he could physically feel. “But it’s never as good as in your memories.”  
Umbra nodded, and crossed the short distance to pick up the shawzin in his hardened hands. It was as though he was holding the most delicate thing in the world, his grip gentle as he lifted it.Umbra seated himself on the floor, and patted the ground next to him, inviting the operator to join him.  
He gazed at the woodwork, gently plucked at the strings, producing a soft twang, before adjusting the tuning. It seemed like something he’d done thousands of times before, as ingrained into his being as breathing was for humans. Although breathing was one thing the operator knew he didn’t have to do, at least not in the same manner as a human would - they weren’t exactly sure what the helminth virus did to his body in the process of making him into a warframe, but none of it could have been pleasant.  
Umbra began playing, filling the orbiter with the haunting sounds of the shawzin. The operator sat entranced by the music, watching with rapt interest as Umbra’s hands danced along the strings. For the first time since they could remember, the operator felt a sense of calm, a sense of safety, a sense of...family.  
The song drew to a close, the notes lingering in the air, and Umbra held out the shawzin to the operator. Tentatively, the operator took it in their hands, glancing to Umbra for confirmation, before holding it in a playing position. They thought back to how Umbra had played it, moving their own hands to mimic it. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but certainly better than their previous attempts.  
The Tenno often prided themselves on being quick learners, what with the wide array of weapons and stances they were able to master, something to which the operator was no exception. That pride was part of what hurt the most about learning to play the shawzin - it was something out of their area of expertise, and as a result a lot more difficult to learn than their usual violent arts.  
They finished the song, and Umbra nodded. The operator could almost sense his own pride for them. It was odd, having someone care about them improving at such a trivial thing. For once, it felt like they were allowed to have a hobby. Like they were allowed to be a kid.  
Their heart filled with a mixture of melancholy and joy at the thought.  
With slight corrections to their technique from Umbra, the operator played again, and again, and time flew by, far better than any combat, where the moments could stretch into hours as they fought on instinct.  
Eventually, the operator placed the shawzin down in their lap, their fingers aching and stinging. It was an oddly satisfying feeling. The operator was so used to the dull sensations felt by their warframes that they were somewhat grateful to feel anything themself, even if it was overwhelming at times, like in the bustling market of Cetus.  
Umbra took the shawzin from them and placed it back within its alcove, leaning it up against the wall, allowing it to stand there in its slight grandeur.  
“Thank you,” murmured the operator, staring down at their blistering hands.  
Umbra patted them on the back, as if to say “no problem kid”, and went to stand up.  
“Wait.” The operator scrambled up too, and wrapped their arms around Umbra in a hug. They blinked their eyes to rid them of the tears that threatened to form when Umbra wrapped his own arms around them in turn.  
Neither of them had to verbalise it, but they both had holes in their lives, created by the Orokin, and both of them needed to fill them. To care for and support each other despite all they’d been through. To take away each other’s pain.


End file.
